


A dream of flying

by tfm



Series: Post-Ep Fics [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: ‘How do you feel about tattoos?’Or, post-Vokodo, Beau and Yasha talk some things through.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Series: Post-Ep Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870387
Comments: 5
Kudos: 219





	A dream of flying

A dream of flying

‘How do you feel about tattoos?’

Beau’s words jerked Yasha from her reverie. She had been staring out at the moonlight ocean, an inky dark sky painted with stars, wondering what it would be like to fly. She hadn’t yet dared to put out her wings, for fear that they would still be dark, spectral shadows looming over her.

‘I...what?’ Yasha had heard the question. She just didn’t understand the purpose of it. She liked tattoos well enough. The only tattoo Yasha herself had was the small line on her chin, a tribal mark from when she had been given the name Orphanmaker. Molly’s tattoos, on the other had, had fascinated her. Eyes, and feathers, and the moon and sun. Molly had showed her all of them, and told her what they meant. At least, he had told her what some of them meant. Some, she knew, had come from Before he had woken up, and he had tried to make up meanings for them, but the stories had been far more outlandish, far less believable. ‘They are okay, I guess.’

‘You know Orly does tattoos that can help you like…be stronger, or smarter, and stuff.’ Beau seemed to hesitated then, before turning and showing Yasha her tattoo once more. It was just as beautiful as the first time Yasha had seen it, fragments of jade glittering in the moonlight, an all-seeing eye emblazoned across a distractingly muscular back. Yasha resisted the urge to put her hand on it, to feel Beau’s muscles moving beneath her. ‘This one makes me...well, it helps me clear my head a little more, y’know?’

Yasha felt herself blush. She thought back to all the times (even just in the past couple of days) that she had utterly failed to clear her head. ‘That’s not something that feels very familiar to me right now.’

‘Do you want it to be?’ Beau asked. She was _definitely_ hesitating, now. Her hands were at her neck, playing with the jade necklace that her father had given her in Kamordah. It was a nice enough necklace, very elaborate, with very large jade beads. It wasn’t really _Beau_ though.

Yasha could see what Beau was suggesting. Getting a tattoo so that Yasha’s mind didn’t get taken over quite so much. It was...Well, the only thing Yasha felt she was good at was being angry, at killing things with her sword. This time, she hadn’t even managed that. She had been compelled by Vokodo, and when her mind had finally – _finally –_ broken free, she had missed entirely.

Of all of them, Beau had done the most damage, her lightning charged punches whittling Vokodo down until Caleb could turn him to ash. Though Caduceus had healed them all, Beau’s knuckles were still covered with angry-looking blisters from where Vokodo’s skin had burned her. Killing was the only thing Yasha was good at, and today she hadn’t even managed that.

‘I mean,’ Beau said, quickly, clearly fearing that she had caused offence. ‘I only bring it up because you looked really dejected, you know? We can still work on your meditation as well.’ Yasha hadn’t realized that she’d been so obvious. Were there _other_ things that she had been obvious about?

‘I had a dream last night,’ Yasha said, which was in no way answering the question that Beau had asked. ‘I…the Stormlord came to me.’

‘As he does,’ Beau commented.

‘As he does,’ Yasha agreed. ‘In the dream, I had my wings; fully-feathered, and beautiful. I flew into the storm.’ Yasha did not dare mention the other part of the dream, the part where Zuala – brave, beautiful Zuala – had told her to not let her past be a shackle. ‘I just...I felt so powerful, and I am afraid that after _that_ fight, if I try to bring them out again, they will still just be bone and shadow.’

Beau, who had been sitting a couple of feet away at that point, edged her way across the sand until she was sitting right next to Yasha, to the point where there was not even an inch of space between them.

‘You’re more than your wings, though. You know that, right?’ Beau bit her lip. She seemed to consider what she wanted to say. ‘I mean...You could have bone wings for the rest of your life, and you would still be just as worthy as if you’d been born with feathers.’

‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Yasha said, sadly, before she’d even really considered the thought. Though it meant the world to her that Beau had said it didn’t matter, to Yasha, it mattered a great deal.

‘I mean, I—we don’t love you because of your wings, is what I’m saying.’ Beau frowned. ‘Shit. I’m not very good at this.’

‘Why do you?’ Yasha asked, before she could stop herself. She had to know if...she had to know. To her surprised, Beau barely even had to think before she answered.

‘I mean, you’re fucking funny, for one thing. You’re kind, and gentle, even if most people don’t see it. And like I said before, you have that...gravitational pull that makes me just want to know more about you. Plus, you know, you scared the shit outta my dad, which is definitely a plus in my book.’ Yasha was utterly certain that she saw a flush of crimson splash across Beau’s cheeks, but a moment later it was gone. ‘I mean, it’s going to be amazing when they come, but don’t think for a moment that you’re any less of a person without them than with them.’

‘Thank-you, Beau.’ Yasha reached down to where their legs were almost touching, and took Beau’s hand in hers. Beau winced slightly, barely perceptible if not for the fact that Yasha had become so attuned to her every move. She realized that her fingers had brushed up against the still smarting blisters. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, and as though it was the easiest thing in the world, cast _Healing Hands_. Beneath her touch, the skin grew smooth, and unblemished, though still a little red. ‘I’m sorry that...you had to go up to him alone. Sorry that I couldn’t be there with you.’

‘You don’t have to apologize for anything,’ Beau said, in a voice of such sincerity that it drowned out even the loudest of doubts in Yasha’s mind. The look on her face was...pitying, but also understanding. Yasha had a sudden sharp memory of the time in the Barbed Fields when their positions had been reversed, and it was her comforting Beau for having been ineffective in battle. Yasha remembered that day so vividly, because it was the day that they’d first had a deep, honest conversation. The first time that Yasha’s crush had crossed the line into something maybe a little more.

There was a long silence between them, and Yasha could feel Beau’s heart beating through her fingertips. ‘How much gemstone does it take?’ she asked. ‘To get the tattoo done?’

Beau scrunched her brow, as though trying to remember. ‘I think it was like...two and a half-thousand gold worth.’ She took off her necklace. ‘Let me see how much I can get from this.’

‘Beau, no—’ Yasha had not realized Beau’s intent with the necklace until this very second. ‘That was supposed to be for your...your protection.’ Yasha wasn’t sure whether she believed Beau’s father’s claim that the necklace would provide protection, but she could not let Beau give it up for...for this.

‘Well, look at it this way.’ Beau winked, and gave a very suave grin. ‘I’ll give it to you so that you can get a tattoo, and then _you_ can protect me.’

Yasha knew that Beau was joking, but she could not deny that, of late, so much of what she did was with the end goal of protecting Beau. Or at least helping her. She smiled. ‘Well, how can I say no to that?’

Beau took out her jeweler’s kit, and ground the jade into dust. It was a mesmerizing process. Beau was clearly very familiar with the tools, and her hands moved with a grace equal to her grace on the battlefield. Finally, though, they had a largish pile of pale green dust.

It was another day after that before they reunited with the rest of the crew, in the village of Vo. The villagers were still coming out of their post-Vokodo haze, many distressed with discovering what had befallen them, and the lives they had left behind. Yasha could relate.

Yasha settled herself on the wooden chair that Orly had set up. (“I’m-m-m, ah, used to do doing this on the ship, but…”). She had, as instructed, taken off her breastplate, and unlaced the back of her tunic so that her back and shoulders were bare.

‘Just so you know,’ Beau said, as Yasha shifted around to face her. ‘Jester, Veth and I all passed out from the pain, when we got ours.’

_Oh_. ‘Well, you know, Beau, I am very strong, so it should not happen to me.’

‘It’s going to look so _cool_ , Yasha,’ Jester said. ‘I told him what you said you wanted, and we came up with something that’s going to look _amazing_.’ Yasha was not very good at this sort of thing, but Jester very much was. The tiefling leaned in conspiratorially. ‘I think Beau will really like it,’ she whispered. Beau was close enough that she could have heard, but she didn’t seem to react to the statement. Yasha wasn’t sure what to think about that. ‘Hey Yasha, you should also get a Chaos Crew tattoo,’ Jester continued, as though nothing had happened.

The tattoo took a very long time, and it hurt a lot. True to her word, Yasha gritted her teeth, and did not lose consciousness. By the time Orly was done, though, it was the early hours of the morning, and most of the village was asleep. Even Beau, who had insisted on sitting with Yasha while Orly finished the tattoo, was starting to doze off.

‘Finished,’ Orly said, in that slow tortle voice, and that was what jerked Beau to consciousness. She looked over at Yasha’s bare back, and said only:

‘Wow.’

Yasha tried to turn her head to look, and it took far too long for her to realize just how impossible that would be. Thankfully, Orly had a small mirror with him. He angled it slightly so that Yasha could see the design.

It was beautiful.

Yasha wasn’t sure how the flowers would work in a tattoo that would be entirely green, but Orly had outdone himself. There were roses, and dahlias, and irises, plus lots of other kinds of flowers that Yasha had never seen before. In the middle of them, as she’d requested, was that same all-seeing eye that Molly had had, and Beau now had.

It was a little bit for Zuala, and a little bit for Molly, and a little bit for Beau (not that she was ready to tell Beau that quite yet). All the people who kept her grounded, who reminded her of who she was, and who she wanted to be.

Yasha looked into Beau’s eyes, and smiled. ‘You know,’ she said. ‘My head feels a little clearer already.’ She felt a strange tingling in her shoulders that was more than likely related to the enormous tattoo that had just been put across them. She reached a hand back to just above where her wings usually came out.

‘It’s gonna look so dope,’ Beau said. ‘What, with the white-feathered wings, and the tattoo. You’ll look cool as fuck. I mean, not that you don’t already.’

Yasha desperately wanted to try, but then she remembered that even popping out the skeletal wings probably wasn’t very good for her very fresh, still somewhat painful tattoo.

With Vokodo gone, so too was that ever-present feeling of being watched. When they bedded down for the evening (politely declining the offer of the use of one of the houses), Yasha felt, for the first time in a very long time...hopeful.

She lay on her stomach as she closed her eyes, a little disappointed that the tattoo on her back didn’t let her stare up at the stars, but then a warm hand squeezed hers. She opened her eyes and saw Beau staring back at her.

‘Good night,’ Beau murmured, and Yasha would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed when Beau fell asleep almost immediately. Her hand was still there, though, and Yasha squeezed it tightly.

When she slept, she dreamed of flying.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys how about that Yasha dream?


End file.
